


But You'll Take Your Chances

by kolibris



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Airplane Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 03:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolibris/pseuds/kolibris
Summary: Akira and Ryuji shouldn't be allowed to sit next to each other for eight hours straight.





	But You'll Take Your Chances

**Author's Note:**

> For [this kinkmeme request](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=670945#cmt670945):
> 
>  _Based on a P4 SouYo fanfic/prompt ("You Might Get Caught")._  
> 
> _In the plane to Hawaii (or back to Japan, doesn't matter), most of the students and passengers are sleeping or doing their own thing. Ryuji dirty talking and teasing Akira until our thirsty protagonist caves in and begs would be beautiful! Especially at the risk of someone seeing them or Mishima waking up from his sleep._
> 
> You can find the fic in question [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/180566) by scatter. I can say with no shame that I’ve read all of their work like eleventy billion times over the years so it was a joy to write something even marginally inspired by one of their fics. (An unintentional love letter, I guess?) As usual, enjoy!
> 
> ETA: FreezingFics wrote a sequel fic to this! You can [read it here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13624821)!

Akira’s stunned he gets the window seat for a second time. When he thinks about it more, though, maybe it’s not too surprising. Mishima won’t take it because he hates climbing over people to get to the bathroom, and once Ryuji finds out Akira wants something it’s impossible to argue him out of making it happen. Akira wants the closest view of Japan as they fly back in, so that’s what he gets.

Plus, hidden away into the little aisle like this, it’s so much easier for Akira to sneak quick touches of Ryuji’s hand. He’s doing it right now, threading his fingers through Ryuji’s, toying with his knuckles, and he hears Ryuji make a relaxed sigh when he sweeps his thumb around his palm. His hand feels nice and warm. It’s a shame Akira has to let it go when a stewardess walks by.

“Was she lookin’?” Ryuji asks curiously.

Maybe. Probably not. The lights are all dimmed now after dinner so it must be harder to see them, but Akira can’t discount the skills of a stewardess who’s probably caught tons of people getting handsy in the dark, so better safe than sorry. Let alone the fact that their entire year is on the plane with them… yeah, they should be careful.

Ryuji’s hand is really warm, though.

Mishima has already gone to sleep, looking just as ridiculous in Ryuji’s eye mask as he did, and Akira wants to join him, but he just can’t get comfortable enough no matter how much he fiddles with the weird pillow and blanket. Ryuji isn’t sleeping either, just lolling his head back against the seat as he looks around the plane. He hasn’t touched his American comics again, left shoved haphazardly into the seat pocket after he gave up on trying to read them. If he’s bored this early into the flight, he’s going to be real sorry.

Ryuji stretches his arms up high, wide enough that he almost catches Akira in the face. “Man, I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed again.”

“You say that like sleeping in a nice hotel was bad. Trust me, it can get a lot worse.”

“Yeah, but you did better than me most nights. You got like, bed-bed-couch-bed. I got bed-bed-floor-bed.”

God, he’s never going to get over losing at cards. “That’s still like B-average. That’s not good?” Akira reaches out his fingers again to brush against Ryuji’s, just a tiny bit. “At least we got to stay in the same room once.”

Ryuji just beams a dopey grin at him, tangling their fingers together for the briefest moment before pulling away again and turning to look back around the cabin. Akira pulls up his blanket a little higher. It’s really not fair; Ryuji is right there, so close to him, and Akira can’t imagine how he’s going to keep his hands to himself and go to sleep. Maybe they could’ve gotten on a different flight back somehow. He should’ve faked having the stomach flu. 

Then Akira looks over when he feels Ryuji lean his head in. “Hey,” Ryuji whispers, “what do you think Nozomu and his girlfriend were doin’ that night?”

Akira shrugs. “I can only imagine.” Ryuji raises his eyebrows at that and an expectant silence fills the lull in their conversation. What, does he want an armchair analysis of what his roommate did with his dick? “Come on. Obviously they had sex.”

“You think they’d go all the way like that on a school trip, dude? Maybe a handy or somethin’, yeah. But real sex?”

“I don’t know. Why are we talking about this? I don’t want to think about Nozomu that way more than I have to.”

Guess Ryuji has mercifully dropped the topic, because he just keeps looking at Akira instead of carrying on, so Akira scrubs away the mental image and settles in his seat. But then, he hears even quieter: “…What do you think we’d be doin’ that night if it was just us?”

Akira looks back up, suddenly much more interested in the direction of the conversation. “Huh?” 

“What if we’d been alone in your room?”

“Ah, well…”

“I got a couple ideas,” Ryuji adds.

“Like what?”

“First off, no shitty floor and no shitty couch. We’re stayin’ on the bed!” Oh yeah, definitely still bitter. “And then… I could finally freakin’ kiss you. I could touch you all I want and nobody’s gonna know about it.”

Akira’s next breath comes out a little unsteady. “Ryuji, not so loud.”

“Hah, sorry.” Ryuji brings his face even closer, placing his lips right up to the shell of Akira’s ear. “And you… I’d wanna see you naked, but not yet.” Akira can practically feel every word, he’s so close, with each breath, each peak of Ryuji’s whispering hitting him hot and sharp. “You’d have to keep your underwear on first. I’d touch you through it, ‘til you’re all hard and wet—”

Akira swallows hard. Like that wasn’t already starting to happen.

“—I’d drive you crazy, ’til you’re beggin’ me to make you come, and then I’d pull down your underwear and I’d… put you in my mouth.”

 _Oh_. Ryuji’s never… Ryuji’s never offered to suck him off before. Was this… something he’d been thinking about doing? Akira’s never had the guts to find out. He’s given Ryuji a few blowjobs but there wasn’t anything like words involved those times, just bringing his hot mouth down to Ryuji’s dick and letting him connect the dots from there, so the thought of deliberately _asking_ Ryuji to reciprocate is just…

“Really?” Akira whispers back. It’s the closest he can get to _yes, god, please_.

“Yeah, you look… you look real good when you’re hard, and when I see it I just think about what it’d taste like… so I’d, I’d suck it, fast like you do, use lots of tongue, and when you come, you’d—you could do it wherever you want, okay?”

Akira sighs, unbidden and heady, and Ryuji watches his lips with open interest. Isn’t this getting out of hand? They’re not alone here in the aisle with Mishima sitting at the end of it, mere inches away from them. Is Mishima even still asleep? It’s hard to tell with the stupid eye mask he has on. He could just be pretending. He could be awake right now, listening to Akira get off to this stream of filthy words fed directly into his brain, and Akira would have no idea. 

“Hey. Are you hard right now?”

As if it knows it’s being called out, Akira’s dick twitches and he dunks his head down in embarrassment. All Ryuji has to do is lift up the blanket and he’ll see for himself, but it’s like he wants to hear it straight from Akira’s mouth. “Y-Yeah.” He adjusts his legs around, readjusts them, anything to lessen the strain of his erection in his pants.

“You keep movin’ around like that, somebody’s gonna see you for sure,” Ryuji says in a low whisper. But he doesn’t sound reproachful, no – if anything, he sounds _excited_.

But it makes Akira nervously glance down the row anyway. He just sees people sleeping, or reading, or doing whatever it is that’s occupying their attention, yet someone could look up at any time and see them so close to each other, maybe think they were just caught up in some private talk. His fidgeting would give him away though, wouldn’t it? Would anyone mistake his desperate squirming as simply part of the conversation? And if he was able to touch himself here, well, there’d really be no hiding that.

He goes back to staring at his lap, bottom lip chewed tight between his teeth. He wishes they’d never started talking about this in the first place; how is he going to survive the rest of the flight more turned on than he’s ever been in his whole life? Out of the corner of his eye he can see Ryuji turn himself over to fully face him, but the action doesn’t catch his attention much until Ryuji works his zipper open.

“Look.” Ryuji thumbs the band of his underwear down, just a little bit, enough to let the head of his erect cock peek out. “Akira… see what you do to me?”

“ _Ryuji_ ,” Akira gasps, and even when Ryuji lets the band snap back up, he can’t stop _looking_. Ryuji really just… _did_ that, showed himself off on the fucking plane like it was nothing, and if anything’s going to get them caught, it’s going to be this. Akira’s face must be red as a tomato with how hot it burns, but he can’t calm down; not after that, not after seeing how hard Ryuji was too. 

“You do this to me all the time,” Ryuji says when he leans back over, deep into Akira’s ear. “Wish we really were at the hotel, ‘cause shit, I’d bend you over that bed so fast your head would spin, spread your ass, and I’d—I think about fuckin’ you too, Akira, I think about it so much—so I’d finally do it, get so tight and deep in you, make you feel so good—’cause you’d let me, yeah? You’d let me fuck you?”

Akira shakily nods, quick and frantic. This just isn’t _fair_. His dick throbs so bad it feels like it could explode, each ache more agonizing than the last, but Ryuji just keeps teasing him with all these fucking words and his lips right against his ear. He can’t stand it anymore, he just wants Ryuji’s hands on him, he just wants Ryuji’s mouth on him, he wants—

“Come on!” Akira hisses out. “Come on, do it. Just touch me.”

“Yeah?” Ryuji breathes it against his ear, an excited exhale shuddery enough to make the skin on the back of his neck ripple. 

“Yeah, so—so come on already, I want you to—”

Ryuji shifts in his seat. “Right now?”

“Ryuji, _please_ —”

Ryuji practically dives his hand under the blanket and gets Akira’s cock out from his pants as soon as his zipper’s down, leaving only that one thin barrier between it and everybody else in the cabin. “Ryuji,” Akira whispers again, but Ryuji flicks his wrist with such dizzying speed that he’s got to clap a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. Ryuji buries his face into Akira’s neck, with his breathing gone quick and his hand just as hurried, the blanket bouncing over his fist like some kind of pervert beacon – “Don’t make it look so obvious!” Akira manages to get out – yet nothing about this is slowing down, his body hurtling towards orgasm uncontrollably fast.

Can’t the guy behind him see all this through the crack in the seating? Can’t the guy ahead of him hear their breathing, loud and uneven? Something’s got to give, somebody’s got to figure them out. But even if they did, Akira’s too far gone to stop now, already coming hard over Ryuji’s fingers, his moans trapped behind his hand.

Those fast strokes finally become slow, soothing pulls, really just making the mess worse up on the blanket and down on his pants, but Akira isn’t ready for Ryuji to take his hand away just yet. That is, until he opens his eyes and sees the drink cart rattle past them, an attendant pushing it along with a practiced stride, and his heart about jumps out of his throat. Akira gulps down any noise he wanted to make and watches the attendant move past them, just waiting for her to stop and turn around, but she only keeps going. Ryuji has the decency to watch her too, at least, but all his pretense of concern is gone as soon as he turns back to Akira with a devious grin on his face. “Are we good or what?”

Akira smacks him on the thigh. Did he totally forget where they are and what could’ve happened? Yet the drink cart keeps clanging far away and Mishima keeps sleeping like a baby and the world keeps on turning. God, they really did that. They really did that and they actually might’ve gotten away with it. 

He lets himself grin back. “I thought we were gonna die.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? Don’t worry so much. Nothin’ can catch us! Not a bad guy, not a single damn person on this plane.”

When Ryuji puts it that way, man, he feels pretty invincible too. Ryuji grabs up a leftover wad of napkins and passes one to Akira. The underside of his blanket is all gross and sticky now, so one napkin might not do much about that, but Akira makes himself wipe at it anyway. He’s more interested in watching Ryuji dab up the top of his underwear in small, stealthy movements where he’s come through it. He’s a little sad he didn’t get to return the favor as Ryuji zips his pants back up, but maybe he’s also more excited at the idea of Ryuji talking himself into an orgasm. 

“Hey, you have any plans for this weekend…?” Akira finds Ryuji’s fingers with his own, still hidden next to his lap. “You should come spend the night again.”

“Shit, that far away? There’s always the bathroom here, y’know—”

Akira pinches Ryuji on the hand until he laughs and gives in.


End file.
